To Days of Celebration: February
by bamboo72498
Summary: February challenge from Bonesology. Everyday has something to celebrate and smile about.
1. National Bubble Gum Day

**A/N: It's a bit late, but here is the first installment of my February challenge fill. Enjoy!**

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Friday night in the Booth family was always 'Eat Out Night'. They would pick Christine up from Girl Scouts and rush over to the restaurant where a crowd of people would be waiting to be seated. Booth would always head off to the bar for drinks while Brennan got their names on the waiting list and kept on eye on the kids. Eventually, they would be taken back to their table and the kids would crawl into the booth, shedding their heavy winter coats, and the parents would sit on the outside. Some weeks they sat together according to gender, other times it was random; on this particular night, it was the former. The waiter would come and if Christine was lucky, she'd be allowed to order soda as her drink. As they waited, Christine would play the games on her menu, managing to beat her mom two of the three times in tic-tac-toe and fly through the word search.

As for food, Christine was like her dad: picking something different every time, always willing to try. Brennan would find the vegetarian options, and Hank, their picky eater, would get the exact same thing and if was any different he wouldn't eat it. Through bites of food, the kids kept the conversation going with tales of their day in school and daycare, and Booth and Brennan would interject with stories of their own, often talking about their current case at work.

Once the bill was paid, Booth would hand his kids a few quarters and they would dash off the with swirling gumball machine, happily squealing as their treat rolled down to them. He and Hank would split one, and biting a gumball in half was no easy task, but he managed.

"I got you one too, mommy!" Christine says, holding out the blue gumball.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Brennan replied, following her husband and son to the car.

"Daddy? Can you blow a bubble with your gum?" Christine asks as she buckles into her seat.

"Sure I can! Watch," Booth demonstrates, helping Hank into his seat. The bubble pops with a snap and Christine laughs. She'd been trying to blow a bubble for months and could never get it right. But that night, she stretched it over her tongue and blew. And slowly, a tiny bubble appeared.

"I did it!" Her face was alight, illuminated in orange by the passing street lights.

"I knew you could!" Booth says happily.

"Mommy? Did you see? I did it!

"I saw," Brennan nods.

"Mommy? Can you blow a bubble?"

"Can she blow a bubble?" Booth asks feigning offense. "Your mom was a bubble blowing champion when she was your age."

"Really? You were, mommy?" Christine asked, shocked.

Brennan laughs at the tall tale Booth was spinning for their kids. "When I was just about your age," She starts, "Grandpa and Uncle Russ and I went to a carnival. There was a table set up with prizes and a bowl full of gum. They were giving them out to people who blew the biggest piece. Grandpa told us he would get ice cream for the one who blew the biggest bubble. Well, Uncle Russ was always ready for competition, and he took a handful of gun and started chewing. After a moment, he started blowing a bubble that popped after only a few seconds. When it was my turn, I took longer chewing, and my bubble was much bigger than Russ'"

"I was as big as her head," Booth interjects.

"Wow!" Christine sighs.

"The trick is to chew it for a while longer than you think so the sugar distributes a bit more. You'll have bigger bubbles that way."

The rest of the way home, the back seat is silent as Christine takes her moms advice and tries to blow bigger and bigger bubbles.


	2. Groundhog Day

**A/N: Playing catch-up today, Here is day two with a nod to two different holidays. Enjoy!**

* * *

"This movie is dumb," Isaiah grumbles.

"You ain't gotta watch," his older brother says. They had been stuck inside all week from snow days and were getting on each other's last nerve.

"Papa's gonna make us ice cream sundaes! Do you want one?" Jordan asks, sliding into the room on his socked feet.

"Nah, I'm good," Tyler answers; he wasn't much for sweet things.

"Sure," Isaiah says, following his brother back into the kitchen, mostly to get away from the absurd movie.

With the others gone, Tyler goes back to the movie. He daydreams about what it would be like to relive the same day over and over again. How interacting with different people could change how the day would end up. Would it mean his dad never got shot? Or his mom never got lost and forgot all about them? Would they get put in different group homes? Would he still be with his brothers? Tyler shakes off the bad thoughts and thinks of happier ones. Teaching both of his brothers to ride a bike. Hitting a buzzer beater from the half-court line in eighth grade. Getting adopted by Momma and Papa.

Other voices in the room pull him from his thoughts and he realizes that his brothers and Papa have come back with bowls of ice cream in their hands. Jordan already has it all over his face, and Isaiah is too focussed on getting the perfect bit, he hardly notices the movie anymore. And Papa? Well, he sits back down next to him and hands Tyler an extra spoon.

"Thought we could share," he says with a smile.

"Yeah, okay," Tyler replies. And the movie sucks him back in once more.

Yeah, Tyler thinks, he'd love to get stuck in a Groundhog Day if it meant coming home to this family at the end of it.


	3. Feed the Birds Day at the Super Bowl

**A/N: Here's day three! Again, we're honoring two holidays: 'Feed the Birds' day and the 'Super Bowl' Enjoy!**

* * *

Julie Andrews' voice flowed from the speakers as she sang the lullaby.

_"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag. Feed the birds, that's what she cries. While overhead, her birds fill the skies…"_ The kids had recently seen the newest Mary Poppins movie and were infatuated with the songs. Christine had started memorizing the lyrics and making up little dances to go along with them, and Hank was learning them too, though he mostly got the words wrong.

"You know," Brennan starts, stirring a pot of queso over the stove. "This was Walt Disney's favorite song."

"Really?" Christine asks from her seat at the bar as she watches her mom in the kitchen.

"Mmhmm," Brennan nods. "Every Friday he would meet with the Sherman Brothers to discuss the movie and how it was coming along and at the end of it, he requested this song to be played. And, when they erected a statue of him in Disneyland, Richard Sherman played this song to honor it. And during his performance, a bird flew overhead and everyone said it was Walt coming to check on them."

"I think it's a pretty song," Christine says. "It's about being kind and showing love to everyone, right?"

"I'd like to think so," Brennan agrees.

"Alright! Enough with the sappy stuff! It's Superbowl! Time to get excited!" Booth cheers from the living room where he'd been watching the pre-game interviews and reports. "Hank? Can you say 'Superbowl'?"

"Soupah' Bowl!" Hank cries, feeding off his dad's energy.

"That's my boy!" Booth hollers, picking hank up and flipping him upside down over his shoulder. Hank screams, laughing and grabbing at his dad's shirt. Booth flips him again into a cradle and drops him onto the couch. Hank belly laughs, his smile wide. Brennan can only shake her head as she watches her boys roughhouse.

Friends drop by later in the afternoon to watch the game with them, and between all the families present, there is enough food to last them weeks. The National Anthem singer is beautiful, but at that moment the real star of the show is the sign language interpreter, and Angela is the first to look him up and learn as much as she can about him.

She, Christine and Jessica Warren (who had recently rekindled her relationship with Aubrey), spent most of the first half watching videos about him, evidently, he was a well-known deaf actor, and learning the signs for 'football', 'team', 'win', and 'lose'.

At halftime, the score was tied at three and had been the slowest half ever. Booth had been reduced to a grumbling mess, using choice curse words as there were tiny humans around, knowing the game was already won. After his beloved Eagles won last season, this years game was less than he'd wanted.

"Damn it!" Booth shouted as the final minutes of the clock ticked down.

"It's rigged, man," Hodgins agreed. "The league favors Brady and does everything in their power to make sure he wins."

"It's just a game, guys. Calm down." And the boys throw Angela such a look, she almost reconsiders her last statement. Almost.

Booth shuts off the TV, too mad to watch any of the interviews. And that signals everyone else that it's time to leave. Parents collect kids, who beg to have sleepovers but seeing as it's a school night, the request is declined, and gather coats and bags and as fast as it filled with noise, the Booth house falls quiet.

Once the kids are tucked in, Booth and Brennan finish cleaning up the kitchen. They put away the leftovers no one else took and as Booth closes up the dishwasher and starts it up, Brennan looks to him.

"Well now that that's over, we can forget about sport for a while."

"Forget about sports!?" Booth asked, looking at Brennan as if he didn't know who she was anymore. "Bones! We still have to finish hockey season. And Spring Training starts soon, and I want to take the kids to at least one game. And there is NASCAR. Bones, we are nowhere near forgetting about sports."

"It seems to me that sports is a year-round event, and the idea of 'seasons' is completely redundant."

"Now you're starting to get it," Booth smiles.

And it only took her fourteen years.


	4. Chinese New Year

**A/N: So I'm a few days late to celebrate this holiday, but it's the though that counts, right? Enjoy this small family moment!**

* * *

"Did you know that in Chinese culture, the New Year doesn't start until February?" Michael asks his family over dinner that Tuesday night.

"I'd heard that," Hodgins confirms with a nod.

"And that every year has an animal that goes with it. This year is the year of the pig. And Phoenix was born in the year of the rooster and I'm a rabbit."

"When did you get so interested in Chinese New Year all of a sudden?" Hodgins asks.

"We were learning about in school today. During Daily 5, we read this article about it and then Ms. Q let us make a craft during Social Studies," Michael says, rushing to his backpack. "Look," he says, handing his dad the two projects he'd made. "The envelopes are to put money inside to bring us good fortune in the new year," he explains. "I made one for me and Phoenix."

"What about mom and me?" Jack asks, slightly offended.

"You guys don't get one cause you're married," Michael says.

"Angela, I'm sorry, but we have to get divorced," Hodgins says, turning to his wife.

"Okay," Angela nods, carrying on the joke. "I get to keep the house, though, right?"

"We'll split it. 50/50," Hodgins chuckles.

Angela laughs at that, looking back to their oldest son. "What else did you make?"

"This," Michael announces, holding the paper dragon mask to his face. The growl he makes scares his younger brother, and the toddler starts to cry. "No! Phi! It's okay!" Michael is quick to apologize and hugs his brother. "See? It's just pretend," He shows him the mask. "It's cool, huh?"

"Cool," Phoenix says, still not sure.

"Dragons are supposed to symbolize good luck in the new year," Michael explains. "How come we never celebrate Chinese New Year? I mean we are Chinese, right?" Michael's question has Angela and Jack looking at each other across the table.

"I don't know, buddy," Angela starts. "I never did it when I was little, and when you guys were born, Dad and I didn't think about doing it with you."

"Oh," Michael frowns.

"But if you want to learn more, we can totally do that," Angela smiles at her son. "I think we missed the festival they had in the city, but I'm sure there's something we can do to celebrate."

"Okay," Michael nods, excited to learn and take part in the holiday with his family.

"What else did you learn today?" Hodgins asks, changing the subject and launching his son into a story of the epic soccer game he was in during recess.

Later that night, after the kids had gone to bet and they were alone in their bedroom, Angela and Jack agree to start celebrating Chinese New Year. At least in some way. The kids deserve to know about that part of their mom's heritage.


	5. Lame Duck Day

**A/N: Day Six is another 'Wacky Holiday' The true meaning of the day is a little unhappy, and I'm trying to keep the mood light this month. So, we're going to use the more upbeat definition! Link in my profile for more information on this dance move. Enjoy!**

* * *

Piano music began as the class of sixteen stood at one corner of the room, Each girl had on pink tights and a black leotard, their hair in tight buns. Christine Booth pulled up the strap of her leo that had started falling down her arm and stepped forward in line. Her teacher critiques the girl in front of her, and as she prepares, Christine eyes the opposite corner, waiting for her count off.

"Ready, Christine? Five, six, seven, eight," Ms. Erin calls, clapping her hands to keep her young student on the beat.

Christine pulls up onto her toes and begins to chaine across the room. She's long past the stage of 'bunny turns', and instead holds her arms big and round, watching the corner as long as she can before whipping her head around to spot again.

"Good, Christine!" Ms. Erin praises, starting the next girl in line. Once the entire class is on the other side, they go back across with Pique turns. "Remember, Ella: every time you prepare to go again, use your plie to give you momentum otherwise you won't get all the way around," Ms. Erin coaches the young girl.

Christine prepares for her turn, holding her supporting foot out, toes pointed. When she's counted off, Christine plie's and uses the momentum to push her around, ending the turn in the same position she started. She makes to back to the first corner and while the others finish, she runs for her water bottle and steals a quick drink.

"Alright, come here," Ms. Erin says, calling her class over. "We're gonna learn a new turn today." This gets excited squeals from the class and it takes a few minutes to get them back on track. "Okay, so let's pretend we're ducks," the teacher says, starting to waddle around, making all her class giggle. Before long, they are all doing it and the room is echoing with quacks and giggles. "Now, little ducks: pretend that your right leg is hurt." Erin starts to limp, pretending to be injured. The class follows, and more giggles erupt from the little girls.

After a while, Erin calls her class back to attention and has them all watch her in the mirror. "Now for this turn, it's almost like a pique turn. But since we're pretending to be hurt ducks, our right leg is lagging behind. So when you go into the turn, don't go into passe right away. Wait until you're about halfway, then go up, okay?" All this time, she had been breaking down the turn step-by-step, and now she finally puts all the parts together. Seeing her class itching to try the new move, she lines them back up in the corner, and they go across the floor.

Erin watches the girls attempt the new turn, giving advice as they go, and demonstrating it again when it appears they are growing more confused as they try it themselves.

Christine had watched her teacher very closely, watching her feet and hands, picking up on the rhythm of the turn. She listens to the beat of the music as she waits in line, marking the turn in her head. When her turn comes again, Christine prepares, counting out the beat and goes. She spots for the corner, waiting until she gets almost halfway around before pulling her leg up into passe and finishing the turn. She pauses for a second, knowing it wasn't perfect, but she had done it.

"Don't stop, Christine!" Ms. Erin says to her, "you're doing great!" Christine smiles, knowing her teacher had seen her. So she keeps going, all the way across the floor, each time trying to be better.

When class ends, all the little girls scatter; some to parents, other to another class, all of them telling whomever they see about the 'Duck' turn they had learned that day.


	6. Wiggle Your Fingers at Your Neighbor Day

Ms. Quintana smiled to herself. Her class thought they were being sneaky, but years of experience in fifth grade gave her multiple eyes on the back of her head and she saw them, sitting on the carpet waiting for their lesson to start, quietly giggling and poking each other. She didn't know what they were doing, but it flowed from one side of the class to the other like the wave at a baseball game. The funny thing was, it had only started since they'd come back from specials that morning. And it wasn't just a few kids doing it either; the entire class was in on the joke. "What are you guys up to?" She asked, hoping someone would fess up, but it only elicited nervous giggles and silence from her normally chatty class. The teacher shrugged it off, knowing the secret would be revealed in time and went on with her lesson.

Five minutes later, she released her kids to start her math rotation and that's when she truly saw what they were doing. Evan passed by Laura's desk, holding up his hands and wiggling all his fingers to her, on his on his way to his center. Laura turned in her chair and passed the wiggle to Michael Hodgins who was on the floor with a clipboard. Michael, wisely, waited a few moments before passing it to Ellery next to him.

As kids began filling her back table, Ms. Quintana diverted her attention to them and ignored the still passing finger wiggle between her students. But while her small group was working on practice problems, she sent off a quick text message to the specials teacher they'd had that morning: music and technology. The technology teacher had no idea what she was talking about; Ms. Quintana kind of knew she wouldn't, she was all work and no play, especially in her classroom. But the music teacher. He sent back three rapid-fire texts, the first two full of laughing emojis and the third to a link accompanied by a message that simply said: just read it.

Ms. Q quickly opened the link and had only gotten through a few sentences before loudly laughing out loud.

"Now you understand!" Libby Thompson called to her from across the room, having watched her teacher through the whole process.

"That's amazing!" Ms. Quintana laughs, wiping tears from her eyes. "You dorks are the best."

By now, the rest of the class had been tipped off to the fact that their teacher knew and they didn't have to be so secretive anymore. The wiggles kept going the rest of math time and as she sent her kids out for lunch recess, Ms. Quintana gave each of them a spirited wiggle of her own fingers.

Later that day, the music teacher forwarded her a thread of emails he'd received from confused teachers of the classed he'd taught that day. All of them wondering why their kids were happily wiggling their fingers at each other.

"Best holiday ever," Ms. Quintana chuckled to herself, re-reading the thread again and adding the wacky holiday to her calendar for the rest of time.


	7. National Pizza Day

**A/N: James Aubrey loves two things above all: food, and his people. Who knew a holiday about one of his loves, could help his other love. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Special Agent Aubrey looked out over the bullpen: agents were sitting at their desks pouring over files, studying their computer screens, most of them with disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes. He sees a room full of people who'd gotten, maybe, a combined total of four hours of sleep in the last five days. See parents who hadn't seen their kids since dropping them off a school Monday morning; his partner included.

This case was kicking their asses; they'd been stuck in a mouse wheel going nowhere fast, and the snowstorms they'd been having recently didn't help much. A good chunk of their team was either snowed in or chose not to risk driving on the highways, thus forcing everyone else who did make it in to pick up their slack.

But Aubrey knew there was something there; something they were missing that would crack this case wide open. He understood they weren't going to see it if they were dragging like this. They needed sleep, a shower, and a warm meal because a PB&J from the break room wasn't cutting it.

Aubrey stepped back into his office, shutting the door before pulling out his cell phone. Food was the easiest problem to fix, and he knew a place where he could get something for everyone and get it fast. "Hi, yeah I'd like to place an order for delivery. You ready? It's gonna be a big one." Ten minutes later, he hung up with the pizza place, vowing to tip the delivery person (or persons) very nicely for doing this, and placed another call. "Deputy Director Stark? I need to ask for a favor."

[][]

"Okay, you guys have to be quiet," Aubrey told the trio behind him as he led them into an elevator. They'd borrowed a mail cart, filled it to the brim, and still had to carry armloads of food. The elevator lets them out in a back corridor, and Aubrey sneaks them into the conference room. They set up a buffet along the entire table, using the back counter for drinks, everything in its own spot, from main dishes to sides and desserts. "Thanks, guys, you don't know how much this is going to mean to my team," Aubrey says to the delivery crew, handing them their generous tip and walking them back to the elevator. When they leave, Aubrey goes to address his team.

Every single one of them is still working, doing their best to find a sliver of a clue to help on this case. Wastebaskets are full of scrap paper and post-it notes and the whiteboard they use sometimes has been scribbled on by some many people, Aubrey has to concentrate hard to find where one person's writing begins and another's starts. Yeah: they need a break.

"Alright! Listen up!" When he has everyone's attention, Aubrey continues. "I just want to thank all of you for your hard work on this case. I know this has been a very long week and we are all running on fumes. So, I've bought us all dinner, it's in the conference room." Everyone cheers and heads over to fill their plates; all of them at some point come up to Aubrey and thank him. He watches as his team finally relaxes; the spirit and sunshine coming back into the room. It's amazing what a little pizza and breadsticks can do to liven a mood.

"Agent Aubrey?" Deputy Director Stark's voice breaks his daydream, and Aubrey snaps back to action.

"Sir?" He asks.

"They're here," his boss says with a curt nod. "I still don't support this."

"I know you don't. But you support my people, and doing this will help them become better agents and maybe solve this case sooner."

"I do support your people. And I also know that if anything happens, it will be your responsibility."

Aubrey nods, understanding his boss, quickly turning to the elevator that is letting out swarms of kids and spouses. Shouts of 'Mommy!' and 'Daddy!' break out as his agents see their loved ones for the first time in a while. Dr. Brennan, Christine, and Hank walk past him to Booth's office, and he smiles at the kids, telling them he'd come to see them in a few. Aubrey does a round of the room, checking in with everyone, making sure they are doing alright.

"Thank you for this, Aubrey," Agent Machado tells him, his three-year-old son Trenton sitting on his lap. "We all needed this; needed to clear our heads for a while. Get out the case, you know?"

"I know," Aubrey nods. "You guys enjoy yourselves, okay?" With a final smile, Aubrey finally reaches Booth's office where the little family is enjoying dinner together and the kids are crawling all over their dad. "Hey! Don't wear your dad out, okay? We still need him to get some work done!" The joke makes everyone laugh and Christine jumps up and runs over to hug him.

"This is the best pizza party ever! Thank you, Uncle Aubrey!"

"No, problem, kiddo."

"Mommy, I think Hank needs another napkin," Christine remarks, noticing her brother's greasy fingers and face.

_Napkin._

An idea sparks in his head and Aubrey whips out his phone, ready to jump back in. But he sees Booth's family and it stops him. It can wait an hour. He makes a note in his phone, shoves it in his pocket and proceeds to steal off Christine's plate. The offended girl shouts at him and he truly laughs for the first time all week.

Yeah: it can wait an hour.


	8. Valentine's Day

**Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Hope it was filled with love of any kind, even if it was just taking a hot shower and watching Vine compilations in your jammies. Let's see how all of out favorite families celebrate this day of love. Enjoy!**

* * *

Cam enters her kitchen to find all three of her sons already eating breakfast, some more awake than others. Tyler is bustling around making sure his brothers are okay before getting himself food. It's a hard habit to break, but he's gotten better since coming to live with them.

"Good morning," Cam says, hugging each of her sons on the way to the coffee maker.

"Morning, momma. Happy Valentine's Day," Jordan says.

"Thank you, bud. Happy Valentine's Day. Are you excited for your party at school today?"

"Yeah," Jordan nods. "Michael said he made a special valentine for Evie Greene. I think he has a crush on her."

"Oh, really?" Cam asks.

"Yeah; they always sit together on the carpet and during DEAR time."

"But just because he has a crush on a girl doesn't mean he's going to stop being your friend," Tyler interjects, knowing his little brother's feelings. "I remember when Xavier and Letty started dating. I felt so left out all the time, but we didn't stop being friends, we just hung out differently. Maybe that's what's going to happen with you and Michael. I mean you're still in soccer together, and no girls are there, right?"

"Yeah," Jordan shrugs. "I guess."

"Oh! Isaiah: if we're going to go to the store for flowers before I drop you off at school, we need to leave soon," Cam says to her son

"Ooo. Is it for Meh-lee-nah?" Tyler teases, stepping up to his brother, getting in his face.

"Shut up," Isaiah says, his red face the only clue that the flowers were intended for the girl in question.

"Zaya and Melina sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-," but before Jordan can finish a hand is slapped over his mouth and a struggle between the brothers starts, ending quickly when the younger of the two licks his older brother's hand, causing him to jump back in disgust.

"You are nasty, you know that?" Isaiah says, watching his little brother cackle with glee.

"Here, that's for flowers," Arastoo says, catching his family as they head out the door, handing his middle son a few bills which Isaiah stuffs into his wallet.

"They're for Melina," Jordan reports. "Zaya has a crush on her."

"I know," Arastoo nods.

"I still say girls are weird," Jordan says, gathering his coat and backpack.

"You think that now, but just wait until you find someone you love. It changes everything," Arastoo says, kissing Cam. "I'll see you guys later. Love you."

"Love you!" They all shout, the door muffling their voices.

[][]

The shooting range echoed with guns going off in every station. Cops practicing, people in classes and even a few individuals just out for some fun filled the booths, and on the end, a couple stood, getting ready to take their turn.

She'd raided the 1920's exhibit again and brought the antique guns to meet him after work. Christine had gone to her friend Emma's house after school, and the girls were campaigning for a sleepover on a school night, and Hank was still at daycare, excited to watch a movie and play with Play-Doh, so the night was theirs.

He'd already wined and dined her the previous weekend; flowers, candles, sex, the whole nine yards. But tonight? This was a night to celebrate another holiday; their special tradition. A tradition that, save a few years due to pregnancies and small children, they'd never missed.

Once the group in front of them finishes, leaving with guns and hole-ridden targets, Booth and Brennan step up. While he gets their targets ready, Brennan sets out their guns and protective gear. Brennan shuts both of their phones off, they wouldn't be able to hear it anyway and smiles at her husband when he takes the pair of goggles she offers.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Booth," She says, kissing him.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bones," he replies, putting headphones over his ears. "Top of the world, Ma!" He shouts, picking up the loaded weapon. He pulls the trigger and a rapid stream of bullets explodes from the barrel, hitting everything but the target. Classic and cool looking the guns were, accurate they were not.

"Top of the world!" Brennan echoes, taking her turn.

Everyone in the room come to see what they were doing, some marvel at the guns, wishing they could try, and others scoffed and walked away, irritated at the noise and disturbance of their concentration. But Brennan and Booth didn't care, they used up clip after clip of bullets, laughing and pretending they were in the mob.

As she takes another turn, Booth watched her, studying how her face lit up; the unabashed joy as she lets the bullets fly. She's just as beautiful as that first Valentine's Day all those years ago, but he thinks he may love her even more now than he did that day. And he loved her to infinity that day.

When the bullets were used up, Booth pulls out a pistol, similar to his issued firearm, and takes a few practice shots. When Brennan asks to try, he hands her the gun and, knowing she knows how to, helps her line up the shot. He's standing with his chest to her back, mouth at her ear.

"Don't hold it too tight, or you'll start to shake," Booth whispers, his hand wrapping over Brennan's on the gun's handle. "Do you see the bullseye?" When she nods, he smiles, "then take your shot." The gun goes off, Brennan recoiling slightly into him, the bullet hitting dead center.

"You're an amazing teacher," Brennan says, setting the gun down to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

"Your time is up," an annoyed voice says, breaking their kiss. When Booth sees the men before him, large with stomach's extending far over their belts, greasy faces, and dirty hair, he resists the urge to flip them off and instead huffs back at them.

"Yeah, yeah. We're going," Booth says, slamming their gear into the cases. "Happy Valentines Day!" He retorts to the men, knowing they were probably alone that night, and not going home to two amazing kids and a wonderful Squint of a wife. And for that he is grateful.

[][]

The kitchen table was covered with pink paper, felt, glitter and glue. Markers had rolled off the table and under chairs, and YouTube videos shuffled through on an iPad propped up in its case near them. Currently, they were listening to the 'Voices of the Disney Parks' panel from the most recent D23 convention. Michael and Angela worked together to make valentines for the twenty-six kids in his class, and after most of the evening working, they were nearly done. Angela always preferred homemade cards as opposed to store bought ones, even when she was in school. It was a fun project she and Michael got to do together because as much as she loved him, Hodgin's artistic abilities stopped at stick figures.

"Okay," Angela says, adding her most recent creation into the pile, "looks like all we have left is Cody Warner, and-"

"I'll do Evie's," Michael quickly interjects.

"Okay," his mom says, suddenly suspicious of her son's sudden request. After a few more minutes of working in comfortable silence, Michael sighs loudly.

"What?" He asks, dropping his marker and looking at his mom.

"Nothing," Angela says, truly meaning it. She didn't want to dig if there was nothing to dig for.

"I just want to make hers special, okay?"

"Okay."

Angela pretends to continue working but actually watches her son. He writes a message on the inside in his best cursive, going very slowly over the penciled in words he'd done first with thin black marker. Michael then moves to the decorations. He folds the tissue paper into flowers like she showed him, and glues them onto the card just so. He taps the jar of glitter ever so carefully, sprinkling it in the right places, and finishes the card with a butterfly sticker in the corner.

"She likes butterflies," Michael says, smiling at his work.

"Well I think she's going to love it," Angela remarks, adding her last card to the pile and standing up. "I'm gonna grab the trash so we can clean this up, okay?"

"Okay," Michael nods.

The morning of Valentine's Day, Michael Hodgins shows up to school with a bag of Valentine's cards in his backpack. He'd dressed nicely for the day too: tan pants, a dark navy button-down shirt, grey suspenders, and his favorite black Converse Chuck Taylors. His mom had helped him style his hair so that it didn't fall in his eyes or stand up everywhere (he was his dad's son after all). His class party was first thing in the morning, and the class was broken up into groups that rotated between games, crafts, exchanging valentines, and eating food. Instead of sugary treats, the room mom's brought in breakfast foods and hot chocolate, which the entire class loved. The Valentine's Day Charlie Brown special played over the projector, and everyone was happy and content.

More than once, Michael caught Evie looking at him, and each time it made him blush. He heard her giggling with her friends, and when he looked over at her, she would smile as if she knew he was looking. Jordan teased him over it, but he didn't care. She looked beautiful in her pink flowy dress, like some magical fairy in a story, and she'd left her curly hair down so it hit her back like curls of confetti at a party, all bouncy and light.

He got caught up in looking at his own cards and trading candy with his friends, that Michael didn't see when Evie opened his card to her.

But when lunch came, and Evie traded her spot in line to stand next to him and take his hand, he knew she'd read it.


	9. National Drink Wine on Presidents Day

"Do kids even have school anymore?" Angela asked her friend as they drove.

"Well of course they do. The state of Virginia requires students to be in school for 180 days, which is about 990 hours for grades 1-12," Brennan says, not picking up on Angela's sarcasm.

"I mean after almost three weeks of snow days, they're off for a three day weekend. It just doesn't make sense."

"I do agree that taking unnecessary days off is illogical, but celebrating two important president's birthdays is very nice."

"Yeah, but no one actually takes President's Day to do the thing it's meant for. All people care about now is furniture and car sales." As she talks, Angela circles the parking lot once again. It was completely full, like anywhere else that day, but they had to get the kids out of the house. Only three hours in there together and they were driving themselves and their moms crazy. "Look, I'll just let you guys out here. Go get the kids checked in and look for a place to sit. I'll find a spot," she says, pulling up to the curb in front of the trampoline park.

"Alright. We'll meet you inside." Brennan waits on the sidewalk for Michael, Christine, and Hank to get out, taking the hand of her youngest child.

"I'll be there in a minute. Michael: stay with Auntie Brennan, okay?"

"I will, momma," Michael nods, slightly annoyed at the babyish direction. He pushes the car door closed and dashes to the front doors with Christine.

The inside of the large warehouse is just as much a mess as the parking lot. And the echoing voices and loud music don't help much. Brennan waits in line with the kids bouncing everywhere, pointing out all the activities they get to do and whining about how long the wait is. Somewhere in the room, Christine's best friend Emma is with her mom and older sister; Brennan only knows this because Cheryl had texted her saying she'd seen them and was holding a table. But Brennan didn't tell her daughter that because she knew Christine's only goal would be to get to her friend, and she needed her help first.

"Christine: I need you and Michael to wait on that bench over there with your brother. Do not move from that spot until I come to get you, okay?" Brennan directs, pointing to an empty seat not far from the check-in counter.

"Okay," Christine nods, taking her brother's hand and going to where she was told.

Brennan steps up, and exchanges hellos with the smiling teenager behind the counter. "I need three 90 minute passes and two pairs of socks, please."

"You got it. I just need you to fill these out for all the kids jumping today," the girl says, handing over a pen and three permission slips. While Brennan fils out the forms, the girl collects the socks for Christine and Hank. "Perfect. Those are for you," she exchanges socks for paperwork and a moment later, the wristbands are ready to go. "Put these on their wrists. Socks must be worn at all times and no food or drink is allowed on the black carpeted areas. Have fun!" with one more smile, Brennan turns for the kids. The older two are able to put on their own socks, so Brennan only has to handle the smallest in their group.

"Christine! Christine!" Emma's squeal has the girl looking to the side and quickly hugging her friend who she hadn't seen since recess on Friday. The school had the audacity to separate them for fourth grade, so the only time the friends got to play with each other was during recess and on weekends.

"Wait," Brennan calls, stopping her daughter who was ready to run off with her friend. She quickly wraps a wristband on Christine and Michael and sends them off, Christine saying something about Michael offering to teach them how to backflip. She finds Emma's mother and older sister who have claimed two tables and waves Angela over when she appears with her youngest son on her hip. Phoenix's curly hair is more ruffled than usual from his nap in the car and he has a sleepy pout on his normally cheerful face.

"Mommy! Let's go jumping!" Hank demands, wanting to be part of the big kids' fun.

"I'll take him," Emma's sister Sophie offers, standing and pulling up her jeans. "Come on, bud."

"Okay, I knew it would be crazy here today, but this is insane," Angela remarks.

"It's like every elementary schooler in a thirty-mile radius decided to converge here all at once," Cheryl adds, agreeing with Angela.

"Is it bad that it's only eleven o'clock and I want wine?"

"I got you covered," Cheryl hands over a travel coffee mug and Angela takes a reluctant sip. But her reaction when the liquid inside his her mouth is very positive.

"I love you," she smiles.

"Rule number one of any kid-oriented event: bring wine."

"Amen to that," Angela says, raising the mug and taking another sip before handing it to Brennan.

"I'm not so sure about this. Is it really wise to be drinking while at a family entertainment center?" Brennan asks, eyeing the mug.

"They do it a Chuck E Cheese," Cheryl comments.

"Yeah, Brennan! The kids are happy, so why can't we? Everyone wins," Angela adds, taking the mug back.

"I can agree with that," Brennan says, finally taking a sip of wine.

While the kids play, the mom's gossip and trade the mug of wine around. Angela does take Phoenix to jump after the toddler nearly throws a fit because he wanted to go play so badly. Though, all that happens when he gets to the room full of trampolines is he's too scared to even get on one.

"Well, we tried," Angela says, sitting back down with Phoenix in her lap. She reaches for the wine mug and whines when it comes up empty.

"That means it's time to go," Cheryl says knowingly.

"Yeah, I think this one is just about done," Angela agrees, lifting Phoenix to her shoulder, trying to quiet his tired whining a bit. They gather their bags and coats and head off to find their kids. Hank and Sophie were easy to find as they were heading back at the same time and ran right into the moms. Sophie informed her mom and Emma was taking one last turn on the trapeze swing and would meet them in a minute. Michael and Christine are waging a dodgeball war against another team of kids, and their team seems to be doing pretty well. The game ends, Michael and Christine's team losing, and all of the kids clear out smiling and breathless.

"Come, on, it's time to go," Angela tells her son, catching him before he can run off again.

"Okay," he sighs reluctantly. The two had out for the car first, knowing the others will catch up.

Brennan had had to follow Christine back to the free jump area and was trying unsuccessfully to coax her daughter off.

"One more," Christine asks. "I want to show you something!"

"One more," Brennan agrees, holding up a finger. Christine takes three more jumps before going into a near perfect backflip, landing on her feet but quickly falling onto her bum.

"Did you see?"

"I saw, that was very good," Brennan smiles.

"Michael taught me and Emma. He said the trick was to jump back and not up," Christine says, taking her coat from her mom and following her to the door.

"Well, Michael is a good teacher."

"Yeah, he is! He said next time we come he's gonna teach me how to do a back handspring."

"That is a very difficult move to execute. I think I'd rather you learn from a professional with more experience than Michael," Brennan says, fighting with her son, Christine babbling on about really wanting to take tumbling classes to learn the things her cousin can do. "Hank: we are going out into a busy street, you need to hold my hand." Hank starts to throw a fit, so his mom simply swings him up into her arms and crosses the street with Christine holding onto her hand. He's still fussing while Brennan buckles him into his car seat, and gets louder when Christine accidentally bumps him on the way to the third row with Michael.

"Got any more wine?" Brennan asks Angela, a headache already starting.

"We can stop somewhere if you want," Angela offers, pulling out of their spot and onto the main road.

"No: I think it would be best if we get home."

"Why? Because drunk driving is bad? Or because Booth is at home and can deal with him while we go back out?"

"The latter, definitely the latter," Brennan laughs. They'd taken the kids all day, Booth can handle them for a few hours. Especially after they'd been worn out playing at the trampoline park.

"Well then, hold on everyone: We're taking the carpool lane," Angela announces, changing lanes into the one that allows her to legally speed. They get home quickly, leave the kids with their respective fathers, and meet up for more wine and gossip. The kids had fun and so should they.


	10. Cherry Pie Day

"Alright, Tiger, we're gonna wait here until your mom gets out of work, alright?" Booth asks, leading his son into the diner. They head back to their usual table, and he sets Hank in the seat across from him, laying both of their coats in the empty chair next to him.

"Christine too?" Hank asks, looking for his older sister.

"No, Christine is at dance class, remember?"

"I want to do dance," Hank announces.

"Really? I thought you wanted to play hockey like me?"

"I want to do both."

"Well we'll have to talk with mommy, but I think that a dancing hockey player is pretty cool," Booth nods.

Just then the waitress comes by to take their order. Booth orders them a basket of fries to share, himself a soda, and Hank requests chocolate milk. "And a piece of pie," Booth says, eyeing the nearly empty pie case slowly sipping on the back counter.

"All we got is cherry, that okay?" The waitress asks, gum snapping in her mouth.

Cherry wasn't Booth's first choice, but any pie in his mind would be good, especially from this place. "Yeah, sure," he shrugs. The waitress walks away, and Booth asks his son about his day at preschool.

Hank happily tells him about his friend Jacob getting to lead circle time, and that they got to go to music class as their special. That one of the second-grade classes got a salamander as a pet and he got to see it, and that they made a project using paint and old shoes.

"Sometimes, I don't get your school," Booth remarks, remembering the week before when they had painted with shaving cream and Hank had come home with ruined clothes from it.

"You don't go to my school, you go to work with Mommy," Hank says, not understanding his father's comment.

Booth chuckles. "No, bud. I mean I don't understand your school sometimes. You and your sister always have silly stories. Like you don't do any learning at all."

"We learn stuff," Hank says proudly, launching right into the ABC's song. The patrons around them turn to watch the boy, and when he finishes, several clap for him. Hank hides; he doesn't like to be the center of attention and is saved when the waitress arrives with their food.

"Enjoy," she simply says, leaving to attend to other tables. When Booth goes for the fries, pouring ketchup over them, Hank drinks down his milk like he hadn't had anything to drink in days.

"Whoa, slow down there, Hank. You're gonna get sick," he pulls the cup away, ignoring his son's slight whine. "Here: want some of my pie?" Booth spears a bite and holds the fork out. Hank takes the bite, and soon the pie is more on his side of the table than Booth's. The preschooler ate up the sweet treat, capping every bite with a sip of milk, and Booth couldn't do much but watch, and maybe steal every fourth bite.

"Look at your face," Booth smiles, ready to wipe the sticky, pink mouth, cheeks and chin. "Mommy is going to freak when she sees you."

And, as if she'd heard her name, Brennan appears through the door, Christine right behind.

"Hello," Brennan says, kissing Booth first and when she sees her son, her eyes widen, but she maintains a casual smile. "Hank? What did daddy get you? You're turning pink!"

"We had some pie while we waited," Booth says, accepting Christine's hug and scooting in to let her slide into the seat beside him.

"I can see that," Brennan agrees, pulling Hank further onto his lap.

Christine laughs. "Hank looks like he's wearing lipstick!" she announces, still giggling.

"I'm not having lipstick!" Hank protests. "Mommy, I'm not!"

"Your lips are very pink, baby," Brennan explains. "It just looks like you have lipstick on. You don't really have any. Besides, I couldn't kiss you with lipstick on. But with pie?" Brennan kisses her son all over his face, tasting the sweet pie. Hank laughs and squirms, waving his fork all over. "Mmm! Cherry! My favorite!"

Now, it's Brennan's lips that are pink. She settles Hank on her lap and reaches over to pick the crumbs off his plate. "Well, I'm assuming you two are not hungry for dinner now," She asks both her boys.

"Come on, Bones, you know as well as I do that pie is dinner," Booth says, slumping triumphantly back in his chair.

"Yeah, mommy! It's dinner," Christine says, siding with her father and stealing a now cold fry. "It has a carb and a fruit. That's two food groups!"

"And, what, may I ask, will be your vegetable with this pie dinner?"

"Fries! Potatoes are vegetables!"

"Three food groups, Bones," Booth says with a shrug. "I don't make the rules."

Brennan scrunches her nose, knowing Booth is trying to get a reaction out of her. "Can I please get two more pieces of pie over here?" she requests to whoever is listening.

"Yes! Ha! You hear that, kids? Mom said we can ice cream for dinner!" Booth starts, egging on his kids.

"No! Booth, I said no such thing!"


End file.
